


Mediation

by mneiai



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Jealousy, Love Triangles, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 00:16:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14343957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mneiai/pseuds/mneiai
Summary: Politics keep Tyrathan free after his 'treason' is discovered, but it also leads to greater complications.





	Mediation

**Author's Note:**

> I don't normally write love triangles, but I could think of how to end this particular one in a way that avoided it. Maybe someday I'll do a sequel that does haha
> 
> This was meant to be just a quick drabble, but you know how that goes. Per usual, unbeta'd and partially written on a phone so there might be some weird typos.
> 
> This is set in some ambiguous time period, sometime after the Siege of Orgrimmar.

Tyrathan had not expected to be contacted by the guards when he stayed in Stormwind and certainly hadn’t expected an escort into the Keep for a meeting. With each step the ball of dread within him grew heavier, though he couldn’t imagine why anyone would go to such ceremony simply to have him executed for treason.

He was shown to a sitting room and told to wait. He did a circle around the room, studying it, then settled near a window, staring out at the city beyond.

The door opened, the steps heavy and unfamiliar, but Tyrathan imagined they belonged to a warrior. When he turned, his breath caught, eyes widening, as Varian Wrynn continued deeper into the room.

Tyrathan slid off the windowsill and into a bow, waiting to be addressed.

“Tyrathan Khort.” Varian looked him over, his eyes reminding Tyrathan of the large cats he’d hunted, predators who knew how to bide their time. “I’ve been hearing interesting stories about you.”

He stayed quiet, still not knowing why he was there and not wanting to make any punishment worse. Why the king, alone, would handle such a thing he didn’t know, but perhaps it was because of Vol’jin’s own status--they would want to keep Tyrathan’s execution quiet to avoid setting off another conflict.

“You’re fluent in Zandali, aren’t you?”

“...Yes, my king.”

“And you spent time training with the Shado-Pan in Pandaria?”

Tyrathan nodded. “Yes, my king.”

Varian took a step closer, looking down at him. “And you’re friends with Warchief Vol’jin.”

Closing his eyes, Tyrathan simply repeated, “Yes, my king,” in defeat. Would his ex-wife and their children even know what had happened to him? Would they think he’d disappeared or been lost and killed with no one ever finding his body?

A chuckle made him open his eyes, looking back up at Varian, who seemed...less threatening than before. “Resigned to your fate, are you, hunter?” He moved away, towards a table to the side covered in papers, but Tyrathan didn’t dare relax. “If I punished you for what seems like a completely understandable friendship, given the circumstances you were in, I’d have to punish people much closer to me for much less reasonable ones.”

Tyrathan stared at him, barely able to focus on the scroll that was handed to him.

“We’re having a...summit. You’ll be attending as our Zandali interpreter.” His tone became stricter as he added, “Anything you overhear from the trolls, I’ll be expecting a report on.”

“Surely you have interpreters at the ready, sire, ones with more training than--”

“Khort, this isn’t about that and you know it.”

Tyrathan nodded, straightening a bit. He looked over the scroll, seeing that it was as Varian told him. Feeling bolder, he asked, “Is it a show of friendship, bringing me so I can interact with Vol’jin without it being treason...or a show of power, reminding him of what sort of threat you are to me now that you know?”

Varian grinned, a feral edge to it. “Why can’t it be both? An offering and a threat?”

Inclining his head in agreement, Tyrathan relaxed more. He wasn’t going to be executed. If he played his cards right, he might even be allowed to regularly meet with Vol’jin. 

“Thank you, my king.”

“You don’t have to look so wary, Khort. None of us want a faction war, I’m not going to drag you to Pandaria just to execute you in front of the Horde.”

***

Tyrathan was called to meet with Varian and others a few times before they departed. His low rank and the low priority of his ‘mission’ meant he often just sat in on planning meetings or was made to wait outside of the ones he shouldn’t be privy to until they were ready for him. As an invited guest of the king, the guards quickly learned his face, and he was allowed to roam around much of the Keep.

Eventually, it meant he also got to meet the prince.

They met in a little garden inside the Keep, a place that Tyrathan had taken to meditating in when he was clearly going to be waiting for some time. Prince Anduin had entered and, upon seeing him, had quickly made apologies for disturbing him and started to leave.

“Please, this is your garden, your highness.”

“There are other places I can spend my time, I don’t want to interrupt more than I already have,” Anduin had insisted, with a gentle firmness that Tyrathan recognized from some of the monks he’d known in Pandaria. 

Tyrathan had stood and gave a little stretch, shaking his head. “I’m just wasting time before a meeting, your highness, you weren’t interrupting anything vital.”

“You were meditating,” Anduin pointed out. And then, with an edge of excitement, “You were seated in the Pandaran style.”

“Yes...I trained with the Shado-Pan for a time.”

And just like that, Anduin didn’t seem to want to leave. They exchanged stories of their times in Pandaria, which was clearly one of Anduin’s favorite places. Not that Tyrathan could blame him, of course.

Hours went by with neither of them noticing until the sound of heavy footfalls against the path towards them reached their ears. Varian and a few guards watched them from the side, Varian’s eyes darting back and forth between Tyrathan and the content look on Anduin’s face.

“Anduin, you’re late for dinner.”

“Oh! Sorry, father, I hadn’t noticed the time!” Anduin stood, smiling towards all of them. “It was very nice to meet you, Tyrathan, I hope we have time to speak more soon.”

“I am in Stormwind until we leave for the summit, my prince,” Tyrathan assured him, careful not to add too many platitudes after seeing how Anduin reacted to them.

When Anduin left, the guards followed, but Varian lingered, watching Tyrathan with an expression he couldn’t identify. 

“He’ll never leave you alone, now,” he finally joked, wryly, before turning away and motioning for Tyrathan to follow.

***

At some point in the journey, Tyrathan had started spending time in the command room. He’d been called in for a question about some documents written in Zandali, to add another possible interpretation to what Varian had been given, and from there it just progressed that he...ended up staying.

Varian, while often seeming to walk the edge of his well-known temper, turned out to be a good conversationalist, even if he seemed to use talking as a means of procrastinating on other work.

“You have children?”

“Three, my king. Two girls and a boy.”

“Three...that must be a handful.”

Tyrathan allowed himself a small smile. “I don’t think any of them are as...adventurous as your son, my king.”

Varian laughed, his mood always seeming lighter when speaking of Anduin. That was something Tyrathan could understand, and appreciate.

“No, I get the impression that Anduin is unique in that way, as well.”

“I’m sure it’s nerve-wracking, but it’s part of what makes him, him.”

“Yes.” Varian’s smile softened, his eyes lightening. “Yes, it’s true. For all I’ll probably be as grey as you by the time he’s 18, I wouldn’t ever want him to change.” He cleared his throat, pulling himself out of the tender mood he’d fallen into. “But surely your children must get into some sort of trouble.”

And so Tyrathan told Varian of the time his eldest daughter decided to ‘rescue’ and house an orphan bear cub in the shed behind their home and all the creative ways she tried to hide it, never knowing that Tyrathan was well aware of what was going on. Varian, in turn, shared a few of what Tyrathan assumed were less intense stories about Anduin, and somehow that carried them through until dinner.

Varian told the servants to bring his food to him and, after a moment’s consideration, to bring a second serving for Tyrathan. He hadn’t expected it, ready to go down to the mess, and after he’d finally retired for the night his mind whirled through the possible interpretations of that. 

***

Arrival was a flurry of activity, for Tyrathan it meant he was shoved into the official uniform and set towards the middle of a group following Varian into the space. Around them, monks assigned to help keep the peace milled, Tyrathan recognizing many of them and greeting them as much as he could without breaking out of their formation.

The Horde was already there, settled down and waiting. Tyrathan was amused at how both sides had seemingly made powerplays based on their leaders’ preferences. Vol’jin’s people were settled, prepared, having chosen their positions carefully in the room. Varian, of course, had made Vol’jin wait, and now came in with a level of activity that the Horde couldn’t match as they were.

Tushui and Huojin in perfect display.

Vol’jin and Varian greeted each other, then their advisors stepped forward to do the same, giving Vol’jin the time to lazily turn his attention to Varian’s retinue. Tyrathan could see the exact moment he noticed him, the slight widening of his eyes, the quick flick of his ears. In response, Tyrathan gave a small nod towards Varian, hoping that the flash of anger on Vol’jin’s face wasn’t a sign that he was going to take issue with this.

It was hours before they found each other relatively alone.

“He has no right ta be dragging ya here, ta be parading ya around like a toy,” Vol’jin hissed out in Zandali, Darkspear dialect thicker than normal, but Tyrathan knew it was more to help conceal his words in case others were knowledgeable than out of anger. 

“He’s my king, Vol’jin, he has every right,” Tyrathan replied, sticking to Zandali as well. “He could have just had me killed, you realize.”

“Instead he be using ya as blackmail!”

“I don’t think it’s BLACKMAIL, just...another attempt at showing dominance. I’ve spoken to him many times since he brought me in, I don’t think he’s going to kill or imprison me, even if these talks don’t work out.”

Vol’jin grumbled, rocking back and forth on his feet. “Ya not ba returning with him, if dis be working or no, I not be allowing ya back there wit’ a target on ya back.”

Tyrathan opened his mouth to protest, but stopped himself. In truth, he had been thinking long before now about returning to Vol’jin’s side and this would all make it much easier. “Maybe,” he replied, all the ground he was willing to concede at the moment.

***

Talks happened. Slowly. Neither side wanting to give up too much ground, both knowing they’d HAVE to in order to get the ultimate goal of peace.

Tyrathan actually did have a surprising amount of real work, as Vol’jin had brought a few Darkspear and also representatives from a few of the smaller tribes that allied with the Horde. Despite the fact they’d surely been warned of his fluency, they still had a tendency to talk around him in Zandali as if he was just another Alliance member who wouldn’t possibly understand it.

Varian, too, found that amusing when they met for dinner, a habit that carried over from their journey. They’d exchanged tales of some of the more ridiculous things that learned throughout the day, interspersed with stories of their children and their personal experiences in battle. 

Time with Vol’jin was much sparser, still just stolen moments on breaks or in the early mornings or late evenings. They caught up on what they’d been doing since they parted, though Tyrathan knew far more of Vol’jin’s activities already, given his high profile.

***

Tyrathan had a sinking feeling throughout the eighth day, as negotiations grew heated. Eventually Varian accused Vol’jin of trying to sabotage the talks and slammed out of the room, leaving his advisors to try to salvage the situation.

Not sure what else to do, Tyrathan followed him out. Varian didn’t stop until he was back in his quarters, but he made no move to prevent Tyrathan from entering. He did, closing the door behind him to muffle any yelling that might happen.

“You should call a break for the rest of the day, my king,” he suggested, “let everyone...calm down.”

Varian glared at him, then sighed, throwing his hands up in defeat. “No, no, we’ll just take a few hours, let them stew. While I have no desire to go back there when the Horde is scrabbling over a few acres of land when there’s a clear natural border we should be using, I’m not going to waste an entire day.” He started off a rant that Tyrathan allowed to wash over him, knowing Varian didn’t actually expect agreement, or even active listening.

“We can have an early lunch,” Varian finally declared, though he seemed more intent on Tyrathan than going to the door to call for a servant. “Or...we could have a workout.”

“Workout?” Tyrathan shifted towards the door. “ARE there training areas here, sire?”

Laughing, Varian caught his arm and pulled him closer. “Not the sort of workout I was thinking of. And I thought I told you to just call me ‘Varian’ when it’s the two of us.”

***

“Varian, do you,” Tyrathan’s words were cut off on a gasp as Varian’s teeth sank into the cords of his shoulder, making Tyrathan’s hips flex harder to meet his, “do you even want this?”

Varian’s rhythm faltered. “Of course I want this. It can’t be so weird, someone wanting you.” His lips and tongue soothed over the mark his teeth had made, the grip of his hands becoming more of a caress. 

That was possibly the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to him, but Tyrathan still wasn’t sure if he could take Varian at his word.

***

Tyrathan dreaded the next ‘official’ meeting and as soon as he arrived, he knew he was right to. Vol’jin was glancing back and forth between him and Varian, nostrils flaring, hands slowly clenching into fists. He knew, of course he knew. It would take a real bath to get rid of the smell of Varian all over him and he doubted Varian had bothered even trying to conceal Tyrathan’s scent on himself.

He felt like a piece of meat being fought over by two feral dogs. Neither would give up, even if offered something else, too resentful of the idea that the other might ‘win’. 

***

“How dare he be doing this!”

“Vol’jin! It’s fine!”

“No! He be taking advantage of you! He be doing this just ta hurt us!”

“He’s not! He didn’t ORDER me to have sex with him.”

Vol’jin stopped mid rant, turning to face Tyrathan, looming over him. “Ya be wanting him? Ya be craving all dat soft human skin and tiny human--”

“Vol’jin! It’s not as though we’re exclusive. It’s not as though we even have enough time when we meet to do anything. He offered and I accepted.”

“He offered ta be showing me his power over ya.”

Shaking his head, Tyrathan debated just leaving and hoping Vol’jin’s temper would cool. He’d rarely seen him like this, but he knew that his moods tended to flare quickly and fade just as fast. 

“I think he’s just…” Tyrathan wracked his brain for some better explanation, “I think he’s trying to make you want real peace.”

“By taunting me?”

“By reminding you that WE can’t be together unless there IS peace. That if this summit works out, it won’t be treason for us, I won’t be under any threat of execution or imprisonment.”

Vol’jin’s breathing was evening out, his logical mind taking over again. “And he just be letting ya be wholly mine?” he asked, skeptically.

Tyrathan chuckled. “Don’t be ridiculous, Vol’jin. He’s my KING. Once this is all over, I’ll probably never see him up close again.”

The skeptical look hadn’t left Vol’jin’s face, but he was clearly coming around.

“If I be finding out he be coercing you, I not be caring about peace.”

***

No one could really believe that the treaty was finalized and signed by both sides. It had been an exhausting two weeks, fighting always seeming to be moments away from breaking out, but it had all been worth it. This was more than just a ceasefire and, better than that, neither faction was led by someone likely to break it now.

Both sides mingled truly for the first time in the celebration, Chen himself providing the beer and regaling a group of mixed Horde and Alliance officials with stories of some of his adventures in his homeland. 

Tyrathan had slipped away partway through, ending up outside enjoying the fresh air. When the wind shifted, he noticed a new scent on it, and gave a tired smile.

“Why aren’t you inside celebrating, Varian?”

“I came looking for you.”

Tyrathan turned, surprised. “Did you? What for?”

Varian didn’t stop walking towards him until he was in reach, settling his hands on Tyrathan’s shoulders. “I know the last month or so has been...hectic for you and you probably have more questions than answers about your place in Stormwind. I wanted you to know that I wish for you to continue on, as an advisor. I’ll need many people willing to work with the Horde, now. And I know Anduin would be pleased to have another person there to promote this peace, especially one with whom he already has a rapport.”

“Thank you for the offer, your majesty, but I don’t really think such a position is good for me. I don’t have experience with politics, certainly not such high level ones.”

“And if I added that I also would like you to stay because I enjoy your presence?”

That caught him off guard. Out of everything he thought might be coming at the end of this, King Varian speaking of feelings wasn’t one of them.

“...I would say I’m honored, my king, but...I have already made plans for after this.”

Varian’s hands dropped to his sides. “With Vol’jin?”

“You had to know that was coming, if the talks were successful.”

That caused Varian to give a humorless laugh. “I did, I suppose that was always at the back of my mind.” He seemed to somehow straighten up more, to grow taller and more confident-seeming in just an instant. “Thank you for your service to Stormwind, Tyrathan Khort, and your...friendship. I wish you the best in your endeavors.” 

Tyrathan didn’t quite know what to say to that, but Varian dropped into a shallow bow and stalked off, not waiting for any answer.

“Dat be awkward,” Vol’jin commented, materializing from the deep shadows at the tree line.

Sighing, Tyrathan nodded, moving towards him. “At least I know I have prospects, for when you get tired of me and trade me in for a newer model,” he teased.

Vol’jin chuckled, wrapping his arms around Tyrathan, pulling him in close. “I don’t imagine dat be happening in dis lifetime, Tyrathan Khort, or any other.” He released him just enough to start herding him back towards the guest quarters. “We be packing tonight, heading out at first light. It be time ta go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to talk about my fics, WoW lore, or whatever else, you can find me on Tumblr at [manyangledone](http://manyangledone.tumblr.com). I also RP Anduin and Tyrathan, for that you can go to [manyangledones](http://manyangledones.tumblr.com).


End file.
